


finishing what we started

by Wiz_is_bored



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Dark, Gun Violence, Slight Cannon divergence, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27014626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiz_is_bored/pseuds/Wiz_is_bored
Summary: Paul and Emma get out of Hatchetfeild, but not unscathed. They resolve to complete their mission to destroy the hivemind.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	finishing what we started

**Author's Note:**

> hi yea this hurt to write and then the summary of forever and always was released halfway through and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa anyway enjoy your angst

"We should have known that escaping that godforsaken town was too good to be true."

Emma's voice is quiet and reserved, what was initially meant as a joke emerging as a solemn acknowledgement of their fates.

"Well, we're still not dying in Clivesdale…” Paul tries to laugh, but it sounds painfully forced. “At least, I don't  _ think  _ we are…" He stares up at the ceiling, as if the concrete will somehow indicate where they are. “The journey was too long for us to be in Clivesdale, right?”

“Way too fucking long.”

The survivors slip back into a heavy silence, sitting with their backs to the cold wall of a tiny containment cell. Abandoned. Sure, the soldiers seemed grateful for their efforts at first, but as soon as trace amounts of spores were found in their lungs they were locked up and left to die. No attempts to so much as ease their passing, no chance at dignity, and nothing more than a tourniquet for the metal bar still protruding from Emma’s leg. She shakes beside Paul. He absent-mindedly strokes the back of her hand with his thumb as he stares into space, only brought back to their harsh reality when the woman’s ragged breathing is interrupted by a coughing fit. There’s blue specks among the red this time.

“It’s getting worse?”

“Yeah…”

Paul glances down at his arm, where the elbow of its shirt sleeve is speckled with red and blue. “What do you reckon they’ll do with us?” he wonders aloud. “Well, not  _ us,  _ but… You know…”

“Either kill us again or keep us around for experiments. But if they wanted us dead they’d have done it already.”

“So… Lab rats?”

“Most likely.”

He squeezes her hand. “At least we won’t be around for that,” the man reasons. It does nothing to comfort his companion.

“Yeah, but what if there’s another outbreak because of it?” she asks. “Would that-” she’s interrupted briefly by coughing, but then continues- “would that be our fault, in a way?”

Paul cocks his head to the side. “I don’t think so.” His brow furrows as he thinks about it. “Fucking hell,” he mutters after a coughing fit of his own, “I am  _ not  _ enjoying the fact that I’m going to end up as one of those singing zombie pieces of shit.” A shiver runs down his spine.

Emma gives a halfhearted smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “So much for never being in a fucking musical, huh? Though I suppose it won’t be you. Not really.”

“Won’t it?” Paul is shaking too now, his free hand tapping skittishly against the ground. “How do we know? How do we know you don’t stay conscious after you-”

Shaking his head, he gets to his feet and crosses to the opposite wall, resting his head against the freezing concrete, hands curled into fists. “I can’t fucking deal with this,” he mutters. “I can’t do this, Emma, I-”

As he’s overtaken by another bout of coughing, Emma sits with her thoughts. Her next words are slow, as if she’s scared to say them.

“Those ones in the bunker… Charlotte, and the cop. When Hidgens shot them through the head they didn’t get up, did they? They stayed dead that time?”

Paul keeps his eyes shut and his face against the wall, not wanting to consider the implications of her words. “I don’t think… I don’t think they did…”

There’s a clinking of something metal being laid on the ground. He knows what it is, but he still refuses to think about it. Of course, the thoughts slip in anyway. He removed the belt of grenades long before they were tossed into this cell, but Emma…

“You… You still have the gun, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

“How many bullets?” He eventually asks.

“Enough.”

Slowly, he turns around. Emma sits with the General’s gun beside her. She’s pale as a sheet. Looking like she’s about to vomit or faint or both, the woman locks eyes with Paul. “We’re going to die anyway,” she whispers. He manages a nod. “We started destroying the hivemind, let’s… let’s fucking end it.”

The woman’s eyes flick back to the weapon. Hand shaking violently, she picks it up.

“I…” She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. “I can’t do it. Paul, I’m sorry, I-”

He steps back towards her and gently takes the gun. His chest is tight and his hands tremble, but there’s a cold determination in his eyes.

“Paul, I… I can’t ask you to-”

He crouches briefly to gently kiss her forehead.

“Don’t look.”

Her mouth is dry. Attempting to swallow, and coughing, she nods. “Don’t spend too long thinking about it,” she advises. “They’ll hear the first one.”

She turns her head away, staring into the corner. Paul flicks off the safety. The question he means to ask catches in his throat, but Emma answers it regardless.

“I never- I never thought about what I’d want my last words to be. But, I guess… Thanks for being in my life for, like, two days, and I wish it could have been longer. Only thing left to say is a big ol’  _ fuck you  _ to… God, everyone else in the fucking world. Oh, and God. Fuck you God, you prick.” She laughs softly, then coughs. It burns her throat. She shuts her eyes. “Goodnight, Paul.”

“Good…” Paul blinks back tears. “Goodnight, Emma.”

The shot doesn’t ring in his ears for long. He doesn’t spend too long thinking about it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! :)


End file.
